


jet ski accidents

by justbreathe80



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-14
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbreathe80/pseuds/justbreathe80
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The time when Ray realized that he had, you know, a thing for Fraser, they were on a stakeout.</p>
            </blockquote>





	jet ski accidents

**Author's Note:**

> For sprat, who provided the song and the inspiration.

The time when Ray realized that he had, you know, a _thing_ for Fraser, they were on a stakeout. Ray was tapping on the steering wheel and drinking some really awful coffee that wasn’t fresh when he got it, and that was four hours ago. Fraser had been starting out the passengers’ side window, going on about migratory patterns of Arctic birds or some shit for a while now. Ray gripped the wheel with both hands and leaned his head back against the seat, and turned to face Fraser.

“Hey, Frase,” he said, and Fraser stopped talking mid-sentence.

“Yes, Ray?” Fraser said, turning his head to look at Ray. Ray paused for a second, taking in Fraser’s face, lit by the streetlights outside.

“Tell me something, Frase, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else,” he said, looking into Fraser’s eyes and holding him there. Fraser brushed his fingers across his eyebrow and cleared his throat, and started to tell a story about chasing a poacher across the entire Northwest Areas. Ray reached out and grabbed Fraser’s shoulder, and Fraser stopped talking.

“I’ve told you everything, Fraser. You know about the whole pissing my pants thing, about Stella, about my dad, everything. So no more, okay? I want something real,” he said, feeling Fraser tense up underneath his hand.

Fraser turned his head to stare out the front window, and started to speak. Ray just watched him as he told Ray about his friend Mark (Smithbauer, the hockey player, no shit) in grade eight, and how Fraser’s grandmother had caught the two of them kissing in his bedroom one day after school. Fraser’s voice was rough, and Ray reached down to lace his fingers with Fraser’s, letting him talk. _I’m the only one who sees him_, Ray thought.

*****

The time Ray thought that he might actually want to _kiss_ Fraser, because you know, who wouldn’t, they were watching the Hawks-Oilers game in Ray’s apartment. The Hawks were sucking, big fucking surprise, and Ray groaned when Amonte missed a wide-open net. Fraser was sitting closer to the edge of his seat, totally caught up in the game. Ray leaned over to his left to reach the beer he’d set down there before Fraser got there, and when he looked up, he realized his mouth was about six inches from Fraser’s.

Fraser was staring at him, not moving, and Ray said _fuck it_ in his head, closed the gap and felt Fraser’s soft, soft lips under his. Fraser was frozen, and Ray hoped to God he wasn’t going to never speak to him again. But then, Fraser’s mouth opened up against his, and Fraser’s hand came to rest against his neck. Ray explored Fraser’s mouth gently, slowly, terrified that anything more would make Fraser freak. Finally, Ray pulled away and sat back down on the couch. Fraser was staring at the television, his lips wet and red, not saying anything at all. Ray watched him, waiting for something, anything, but Fraser didn’t give him a damn thing. And after the game was over, Fraser did his “thank you kindly” routine and got the fuck out of there. Fraser didn’t come by the station much that week, and it seemed like they were just going to pretend it never happened. Which Ray kept telling himself was a great idea.

*****

The time Ray figured out that kissing Fraser was great, really fucking phenomenal actually, and that he might want to do, you know, _more_ than that, they were back on his couch, Red Wings-Canadiens this time. Things had been kind of weird since the kiss the week before, but they hadn’t talked about it. They never fucking talked about any of _this_, this thing between them that was clearly a thing.

Ray got up from the couch at first intermission to get a beer from the fridge, and called back to the living room, “Hey, Frase, you want something to drink?”

“Yes, water please, Ray, thank you kindly,” Fraser replied.

When Ray got back to the living room, glass of water in one hand, beer in the other, he stood and watched Fraser watching the game. He set the bottle and the glass down on the coffee table and walked around to stand in front of Fraser, blocking his view of the game. Fraser looked up, startled, and Ray reached out his hand. Fraser took his hand, letting Ray pull him up off the couch and toward the bedroom. Ray let go of Fraser’s hand to pull his shirt up over his head and watched as Fraser moved his own hands down to start unbuttoning his shirt.

When they hit the bed, they’d managed to get out of the rest of their clothes, and Ray felt Fraser on top of him, hard, heavy, and _hot_. He hadn’t realized that would feel so good, having Fraser on him like a heavy wool blanket, moving his hands on Fraser’s arms. They still weren’t talking, weren’t saying a damn thing, but Fraser had Ray’s hands pinned to the bed now and was rubbing against him. Ray was gasping up at the ceiling, Fraser’s breath hot on his neck, moving, still moving, their cocks sliding together between them. When Ray came, he pushed against Fraser’s hands and sighed, feeling it hit their skin. Fraser was done too, just a few seconds later, letting out a gasp into Ray’s neck that made him shiver. Fraser rolled off of Ray to the side, keeping one leg hooked over him, and his palm pressed against his chest.

The next thing Ray knew, he heard rustling and woke up to see Fraser sitting on the edge of the bed, his clothes next to him.

“Frase,” he said, his voice sounding way too loud in the silence of the room.

“Ray, please, I have to go, I left Diefenbaker at the Consulate, I’ve really been terribly irresponsible,” Fraser said, pulling on his henley over his head and then buttoning up his flannel shirt. He stood him and pulled on his jeans, fastening them and buckling his belt.

“Come on, Fraser, please,” Ray said, standing up with the sheet wrapped around him, “just stay, we don’t have to talk.”

Fraser turned to face him and said, “I’m sorry,” and left the room quickly. Ray just stood there, feeling like a total idiot.

He didn’t see Fraser at all that week, or the next one either, and every time he called, Fraser begged off and said the Ice Queen needed him for this or that. So after the first few times, he didn’t call anymore.

*****

The time Ray sort of knew that he was in love with Fraser, they were in his kitchen. It was Ray’s birthday, and Fraser had called him up and insisted upon cooking him dinner. “Jesus, Fraser, you don’t have to do that, we can just call Sandor,” Ray said, and Fraser said, “No, really, Ray, I’d be honored to,” and Ray couldn’t refuse that, could he? Not after how weird things had been between them since the whole, you know, Fraser-and-Ray-had-sex and-never-talked-about-it thing. So there they were in Ray’s kitchen, Fraser standing over the stove cooking something that, well, smelled pretty fucking fantastic actually, and chatting about something, Ray had no idea. Ray watched him from across the kitchen, back against the counter, arms folded across his chest. As he watched, he thought about how Fraser’s skin had felt underneath his hands, what he sounded like when he came.

He pushed off the counter and walked to where Fraser was standing, pressing himself along Fraser’s back, feeling him go quiet and still in front of him. He brought his arms around to rest along Fraser’s.

“You gotta talk to me, Frase, I’m freaking out here,” he whispered.

“I know,” Fraser said.

They stayed right there, just like that, for a few minutes, the dinner forgotten, when Fraser turned in Ray’s arms and pushed Ray backwards toward the counter, pinning him between it and Fraser’s warm body. Ray put his palms on Fraser’s chest, feeling his heart beating like crazy. He moved his hands to Fraser’s biceps and turned him around, pushing Fraser’s back into the counter, grinding up against him.

“Ray,” Fraser said, before leaning in to press his lips against Ray’s. Everything he’d been feeling and keeping down for the past two weeks came rushing back. Ray moved his mouth against Fraser’s, his tongue licking against his lips. His hands were still clutching Fraser’s arms, and he moved one down to the Fraser’s crotch, feeling his hard cock inside his jeans.

Ray let go of Fraser’s arms and dropped to his knees on the linoleum, his hands working on Fraser’s belt. When he got it undone and started to work on the button and zipper, he looked up at Fraser, who was looking right back at him, watching him intently.

“I need you to tell me you want this,” Ray said, “I need to know that you’re not going to run out on me again. You gotta tell me, Frase, please.” His fingers were resting on the waistband of Fraser’s jeans.

Fraser’s hands came down to rest on Ray’s head, combing through his hair, petting him almost.

“I’m sorry, Ray.”

“Christ, Fraser, do not apologize to me. Just _talk_ to me, okay?” Ray said softly, trying not to push into Fraser’s hands in his hair, because it felt so good to be touched like that, and he wasn’t sure when Fraser would take off again.

“I’m sorry that I, as you say, freaked out. I wasn’t sure what to do with this, and I didn’t want to make a decision that might affect our work partnership, which is very important to me, Ray, I hope you know that,” Fraser said, speaking softly and quickly now, hands still in Ray’s hair.

“I know that. I do.”

“But I _do_ want this, Ray. Very much so,” Fraser said, voice cracking a little. His fingers wound in Ray’s hair and tugged gently, pulling him a little closer to Fraser’s hardcock, which looked pretty painful at this point.

Ray made quick work of Fraser’s button and zipper, and pushed his jeans and boxers down to his knees, Fraser’s cock bobbing. He reached out with his tongue to lick the head, which made Fraser tighten his hands on Ray’s hair and pull him down, slowly. He moved one hand to the base of Fraser’s cock, the other hand rubbing circles on Fraser’s thigh, and let him do it, let Fraser pull his mouth down, opening up and feeling the hot slide of Fraser’s cock into his mouth.

Fraser’s hands were soft and firm, and he held Ray’s head gently while he moved his hips. His rhythm was slow and deep and Ray felt the head of his cock hit the back of his throat. He moved his tongue along the underside of Fraser’s cock with every thrust, and Fraser moaned softly with every stroke. He kept a lazy pace, like he could fuck Ray’s mouth for the rest of the night and not come. God, it felt good, to be like this with Fraser, to know that he wanted this, because he was giving it to him.

After what seemed like hours, and, God, Ray’s fucking knees were _killing_ him, Fraser grabbed Ray’s hair tightly, thrust deep, and came down Ray’s throat with a moan like he was letting go of something deep inside, finally. Ray held Fraser’s cock in his mouth until his hips stopped moving, then pulled off, wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and rested his head on Fraser’s thigh. Fraser reached down and pulled Ray to his feet, wrapping his arms around him, kissing Ray all over his face. And it felt really amazingly good, until he smelled the burning, and looked over to see his birthday dinner, completely ruined on the stove.

Ray pulled away from Fraser, moving toward the stove, turning off the burners and cursing. Fraser moved around behind him, refastening his pants while he walked, to pull the pots off the stove and dump the burned food into the trash. Ray was trying to apologize when Fraser picked up the phone and called Sandor for a pizza. With pineapple. Fraser then dragged Ray over to the couch, leaning his back against the armrest and pulling Ray against him, back to Fraser’s chest, Fraser’s arms wrapped around him. Ray sighed and let himself relax there, feeling for the first time like he’d maybe done things right. Fraser was whispering in his ear and Ray just let himself feel it, knowing that Fraser was telling him that he loved him too.


End file.
